


The past doesn't matter. All that matters now is the future.

by boogiewrites



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fertility Issues, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, In love with another man, Long lost love, Making Love, Mutual Pining, Pregnancy, Regret, Romance, Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Very Mild Violence, canon typical language, cheating on your husband, emotionall distant husband, lovers reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogiewrites/pseuds/boogiewrites
Summary: A one shot about a woman named Rachel and the infamous Alfie Solomons. Angsty and romantic. Rachel finds herself unhappy with her life, despite making the clear choice to choose it and live it. With yearly reminders of her mistake coming in the form of flowers from the man she left, all her regret comes to a head and she reaches out to him, the man she truly loves, to help him (and her) escape the dark hand of her husband. Some lessons are only learned the hard way.





	The past doesn't matter. All that matters now is the future.

From an outsiders point of view, your life was a picturesque little portrait of a wholesome family and a hard-working husband, and a dutiful wife. Although in most meanings of the words, that would be correct but behind closed doors, after dark and beneath the surface, it was anything but. Years of built up lies, neglect and bitterness were the names of the pillars that held your life together. With a strong foundation that was built entirely on regret. 

You woke up in your bed alone as you do most mornings, your husband, an inspector for the London police got up early every morning to phone his contacts and read the papers. Frequently his work had him get in at all hours. He would casually ready himself for bed, switching lights on and making no attempt at being quiet despite the fact you had a baby in the adjacent room. This would often leave you to have to go care for her as the commotion would wake her and it always seemed to happen just as you had fallen asleep. He would come in and leave you to hush the crying child. He had not once offered to comfort her himself. 

He hadn’t touched you since you’d become pregnant and the baby was almost a year old now, he was always working, always tired and caring more about numbers and his arrests than his own family. You had had trouble getting pregnant and it was all Harold would act upon or talk about when you were first married. You assumed this meant he would be an involved father and be thankful towards the woman who gave him such a gift. But you had the child and now you didn’t know if you preferred the hollow sexual attention of before to the utter indifference towards you now. There were never sweet words or apologies for this neglectful and selfish behavior and you were left angry and bitter. You couldn’t believe you’d actually chosen this life for yourself. You had thought this life would be easier and more secure but you’d never felt more alone or worked as hard as you had keeping a home and raising a child practically alone. 

It had been alone except for Harold's existence, until very recently when you’d gotten a maid to come and help a few nights a week. You’d begged for assistance as you were so exhausted you had slept through the baby crying one afternoon and Harold came home and did everything but hit you in retaliation to your so-called neglect. He only agreed to hire help at that point because of your incompetence with raising his child. It had taken you so long to become with child, he said he should’ve taken it as a sign you weren’t fit for motherhood. Since then you’d been so low, so depressed with near constant red and puffy eyes from crying for a life you could’ve had. A life with passion in it. A life with a man, however miraculously flawed he was, loved you wholly and truly. But you had made your bed and you had to lie in it now. 

This constant haze of exhaustion and sadness was probably the reason you hadn’t recalled what day it was. You’re feeding your little Elizabeth, she’s content, the only in the house to be so as she suckles away at you as you make tea in the kitchen. 

There’s a knock at the door and you think nothing of it, it could be a messenger, a coworker of Harold’s so you don’t acknowledge it and continued focusing on the task so you don’t mess up the brew and get a passive aggressive response to it. 

“Again with these bloody fucking flowers!” He yells after you hear the door slam. He sits the large bouquet on the kitchen table and crosses his arms. “How many years in a row now? What the fuck is with this? These must be a mistake.” He says rubbing his chin. 

“Please Harold watch your language around the baby.” you ask softly. 

“She can't bloody understand me.” He says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

You turn and sigh. Your heart sinking to your stomach as you look at the flowers. You gulp and readjust the baby in your arms. You knew who the unmarked flowers were from. You knew why they were sent and each year, as your life became more and more hopeless and overwhelming they made you more and more depressed knowing what they signified. 

Today marked the anniversary of the day you had left Alfie Solomons. A man you had known since before the war. After returning, you ran into each other by chance, you had thought, and something was different that time. That difference, unknown to you at that juncture had been him acting on a promise to himself to find you and tell you how he felt if he made it out of the war alive. A romance quickly bloomed. Something passionate and burning hot, long nights together that made your days apart feel eternal. He was trying to make something of himself, you’d known that. What you hadn't expected was for him to be so bloody good at being bad. His work became more and more intense, with more violence and danger and it had scared you. You didn’t want a life where you had to worry about your husband constantly and worry about your own safety because of things he did. It all frightened you and you had made the life-altering, world-crushing and heartbreaking decision to leave him for something safer. 

You thought life with Harold would be common and simple but you soon found it to be anything but. The social ladder of his workmates and their wives held nothing for you. You were born and raised poor and lacked the certain air of arrogance and affluence that they did. It was as if they could smell the coal in your pores from your youth and knew you weren’t like them. There was nothing save sweet Elizabeth, an innocent in all this to soothe you now. 

The flowers this year hit you particularly hard as your disappointment with your decisions weighed heavily on your chest. You rocked the sleeping baby and stared at them. Flowers you’d picked together when you were young in fields on picnics where you’d make love in the tall grass in the summer. Tears well up in your eyes, your heart literally aching for what you’d lost in him. He was a stubborn man, and it seemed even after you’d left he’d kept a spot for you in his heart. If these flowers were any indication. Every year, a large bouquet of flowers sent in the morning in a porcelain vase. Harold has tried to find who they came from but as was his way, Alfie had paid off the florist well and your secret was safe. 

If Harold were to ever find out about it, it would surely be Alfie's downfall. Harold handled the crime in Camden where you resided, and of course, Alfie was more than well known. You had to hear your husband say the name of the man you truly loved every so often and it’d make your stomach turn with every syllable. 

But you were far from an innocent bystander in all this. You would eavesdrop on your husband's conversations. For the first year you were married you forced Alfie out of your mind and tried to be a good law keepers wife. Something it soon became apparent you were never meant to be. But after the flowers were sent the first time, it awoke something in you and you became a deviant yourself. It hadn’t taken you long to catch on that Harold’s affections were hollow. He was a man who cared about his image and nothing much else. He held no loyalty to you truly in his heart, you were merely a box to be checked on a long list of things that were expected of him.

Alfie had always been loyal to you. He was far from perfect but he always took you into consideration. Harold never did that. That day a loyalty of your own was awoken and you became the person behind the anonymous tips leaked to Alfie of threats from the police. You paid the rough youngsters in the market to deliver the letters to his home and tell him nothing of who sent them. You’d saved him from certain demise and arrest countless times now. You liked to think the flowers were a thank you for your services that put you in harm's way if you were found out. Luckily, with the criminal activity you’d witnessed while with Alfie, and your questionable upbringing, you used those things to your advantage to not get caught. 

The weeks pass and the flowers wilt. You dry them and press them into your journal as you always do. Just another secret kept from your husband. Despite the maid being with the baby in her room, you find yourself awake and wandering the halls. You see the door to your husband's office opened, which was rare. It was usually locked. He had come up to bed and gone into a deep snoring sleep quickly, not even stirring as you got out of bed. You move into the small office, a mess except for a small area on his desk. You see his work diary and your nose twitches. You take a deep breath, looking out of the room as your fingers trace the edges of the leather ledger. You could hear the faint snoring and knew you were in the clear from him at least. You flip through to find names and dates and arrests. Times of surveillance and names of places surveyed. They weren’t all about Alfie, but most were, you could tell from the Jewish names used. You flip to the most recent, a heavy sigh escaping you as a black star rests on tomorrow. You take in the scribbled notes. A warrant had been issued for the search of an office in Solomons' name. from what you could tell tomorrow night there would be a raid. You try to figure the timetable in your head. By the time he was out of the house tomorrow, you could make it to the market, but you couldn’t guarantee the message would get to him in time. Usually, your husband would’ve bragged about something like this. So you assume by the almost code like jotted notes this might have been something secret or something they thought would be fruitful to them. It was underlined and stared, and Harold wasn’t known for his flourishes so you assume this must be big. 

You shut the book and leave everything as you found it. You switch off the light and shut the door, assuming he hadn’t meant to leave it open and shutting it would’ve been a perfectly reasonable thing for a wife to do. You cross your arms and chew your lip, walking slowly down the hallway. You feel a pit of worry deep in your chest and stomach grow.

If Alfie went down and you could’ve done something to prevent it you would never forgive yourself. But short of telling him yourself you didn’t know how to do it. You didn’t have his phone number, you couldn’t call. A telegram wouldn’t get there in time and sending it anonymously would be very difficult if not impossible, and you didn’t have money to pay off anyone. 

You make a decision. One that would turn out to be one of the most important of your life and wasn't it suited it would involve Alfie. You go up to Elizabeth’s room and tell the maid you’ve heard from a friend and will be heading out, as she requires your emotional support. You ask her not to tell Harold unless he asks. She asks who the friend is and you tell her to relay that in your haste, you didn’t tell her. You will be back tomorrow certainly and she was to stay with the baby and she’d be compensated for her time. You go to your room and retrieve a dress and clothing suitable for the night chill. 

With your coat tight around you, you walk the few streets to Alfie's Home. You silently prayed he would be there and would allow you to come in. You kept repeating the information you’d read to yourself on the way, your feet quick and your head covered with a scarf to hide your appearance so no one would recognize you. 

With your breathing now fast and heavy, small puffs of steam from your lungs as you stand in front of his door. Your face is flushed and your skin tight from the cold and exertion. Your hand stops before making contact with the door. Were you really doing this? This was something you didn’t come back from. This was a line crossed and you hadn’t spoken to the man in years, hid from him in public when you’d see him in town, so you weren’t sure if he’s even seen you in that span of time. 

You close your eyes and force a knock of your knuckles to the metal surface and wait with bated breath. There is a light inside, you can see it, but it could be from a maid or a guard. If he wasn’t there you weren’t sure what you’d do. You hadn’t planned that far ahead. 

With no answer after what felt like forever you knock again. You hear a old familiar voice grumbling and swearing and your jaw tenses. You realize you’re about to come face to face with him and you feel a bit nauseous. 

“Who in the fuck is it?” You hear him shout from the other side of the door and you find your voice gone. Your throat right and your breathing stuttering. “I ain’t openin' the fucking door unless you tell me.” he states obviously.

You take a deep breath and swallow. “It’s... It’s Rachel.” You force out. Eyes already wide and nervous. 

There’s silence from the other side of the door for a moment. He knew that voice. He could never forget it. He didn’t have to ask Rachel who. He stares at the door a bit befuddled, brow low and face twisted in thought, eyes shifting as if he could see through the door. His hand hovered over the handle and he lets out a noisy breath. In all of these years, why would you be here tonight? 

“Alfie?” He hears your say and it’s like a knife ripping open his chest. That voice calling his name haunted him in his sleep for years. The last time he’d heard it called so sweet it had had the same effect on him as you’d told him goodbye.

He opens the door, jaw tight and half expecting a shotgun blast to the chest for his stupidity to open his door to the wife of the man who was out to get him. But that was a big part of what made him open it as well. It had to be something of dire consequences for you to reach out to him. He takes his chances. Pulling back the door, squaring his shoulders and putting up a front of indifference as he was used to, he slowly reveals you standing with your hands clutches to the lapels of your coat, large hazel eyes batting at him on a face that looked fearful and concerned. 

Neither of you says anything for a moment. He sees your lips trembling and your knuckles white with tension. You finally break under the hard stare of his piercing blue eyes. 

“May I come in?” You ask softly, casting your eyes downward. 

“Why are you here?” He asks, his voice now even and calm unlike the shouts earlier. 

You open your mouth only to shut it and breathe out forcefully. “I came to tell you something.” Your voice meek and losing any confidence the longer he made you stand outside. 

“And it couldn’t wait for a normal time when most people would call upon another person?” He still had his sarcasm down, that was clear and he sees your face stay sad and guarded, not bending to his tone and giving him any hint of annoyance or amusement. 

“Please? It’s important. I’m risking a lot to be here right now.” Your eyes still aren’t meeting his, your brow low and your posture slumping. He was making you feel bad, perhaps hurting your feelings and that wasn’t his intention whether that’s what he should want to do or not. 

“Come in, love” he eventually says, opening the door and showing you in. He watches you shiver and take the scarf from your head showing the same waves of dark auburn, similar to his. 

“Thank you.” You say meekly. You were a shadow of what he recalled. You had been so full of life and self-assured last he’d laid eyes on you so closely. Now your eyes were more sunken, the only color in your face from the cold nipping at your nose. 

“What...” he shakes his head and blinks in confusion. “Why are you here Rachel?” Saying your name aloud, having it hit his ears felt strange. 

“There are some things I need to tell you, Alfie.” You begin, unbuttoning your jacket. “May we sit? This might...take a moment.” You say with a flinch in your face as if he might strike you for asking. What sort of life had you been living without him? He expected you to be fat and bubbly and a kept woman with Harold. But he found you acting more like a dog that had been kicked one too many times.

He nods, “Here love, let me take that.” he says softly, moving towards you slowly and the way your shoulders tense when he takes your coat from your shoulders makes him have to hide his sadness in his face. His poor little lost love, what had your decisions brought you to? 

As you feel the warmth from his hands you want to shudder, not having been touched in so long by anyone for any reason it felt foreign to you. When he lightly touches your upper back you jump slightly as it catches you off guard and you’re ashamed of your nervous behavior. 

“You okay? Are you hurt?” He asks as you walk to the living room where the fire roared and piles of books sat around a clearly worn armchair. 

“Sorry I’m... no I’m not. Just nervous.” you stutter out.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I stand by my words I last said. I won’t hurt you love, no matter what you’ve come here for.” 

“Thank you” is the only reply you can manage. You sit on the couch and he leans over and touches your shoulder, finding you cold and far less plump than he expected for having a baby. 

“Would you like tea? I'm getting you tea, you’re cold.” He says and you can hear the worry in his voice for you. You’d missed hearing that from someone.

He strides into the kitchen and brings back two cups, and the taste takes you back to your time with him in an instant. It warms you in a way you didn’t expect as you sip away at it, trying not to appear too eager and stare into the fire as he studies you from his seat next to you. 

“You still drink this?” You ask eventually, your face not turning towards him but your eyes look his way. 

“I’m a creature of habit ain’t I?” He says with a lighter tone. “I find something I like and I keep to it.” His words sting like a slap to the face and you close your eyes for a moment. Who was this fragile little bird in his home? She certainly wasn’t the girl he once knew. 

“I wish I could say the same.” You say quietly, sniffing then clearing your throat. 

“Are you okay love?” He asks again, setting his cup and leaning towards you. “Are you in some sort of trouble?” He tries to get something out of you to ease his own nerves. 

“Not...exactly no.Not yet anyway. I could be for coming here but...” you let out a sigh and finally turn his way, your back hunched as you leaned towards his crouching frame. “I had to.” 

“You’ve got to start speaking in more facts and fewer riddles, sweetheart.”

“The police are going to go after your offices tomorrow. They have warrants and there’s a plan in place.” You say without eye contact as your purse your lips tightly.

“Wh-Why are you here telling me this?” His eyes narrowed and hiding his worry for you and the information's sudden appearance. 

“Because if I sat by and let something happen to you, that I could have stopped...I couldn’t live with myself.” you admit, and your shining eyes finally turned to meet his that hadn’t left your pale face. 

The words hit him hard. “This...” he clears his throat and thumbs his nose, his weight in his elbows on his knees as he leaned in close and spoke softly in his disbelief he was hearing such a thing from you. “This is Harold’s doin’?” He asks, not being able to bring it upon himself to call the man your husband. 

“I saw it in his diary just tonight by chance. I knew my usual way wouldn’t reach you in time.” Your words seem to be coming easier now despite the closeness of him. You could smell the rum from the distillery on him. 

“What you mean usual way?” He speaks slowly and his head tilts as your eyes go wide. He was far too clever to speak to when you were nervous. You were far too scrambled in his presence to keep cool and hide your secrets. 

You hadn’t meant to word it like that. “I-uh..” you stutter and he sees your breathing pick up, the rising and falling of your chest, the only thing that looked healthy on you caught his attention. He knew you’d had a baby and that must be the reason for it, for the rest of you was slight in your modest dress. 

“Rachel.” He says, reaching out and taking your hand and he feels you shake at the contact. “Love stop shakin’.” he says taking both your hands into his. “Now take a breath. You’re safe here.” You look into his eyes and you believe him without so much as a second guess. Those eyes were the same, a bit saddened perhaps but still full of love for you. As you took his advice and took a few slow deep breaths you look down to your hands clasped together. 

“I’ve been giving you information.” You whisper as if barely saying it might make the offense not as bad. 

“I haven’t spoken to you in years love and seen you almost the same, what do you mean?” 

“Your anonymous source. The ones that come from the children and are delivered to you.”

 

The tension in his mouth leaves, just wide eyes glancing over your face to see if you were lying. “How do you know about that?” 

 

“Because I’ve been paying them to do it.“

“They weren’t in your handwriting I’d recognize it anywhere.” 

 

The confusion you both feel sitting heavy in your chests. “I wrote it with my other hand.” You admit. “So you wouldn’t be able to tell.” 

 

He rapidly blinks before turning his face back to yours. “You’re serious?”

“Why would I lie about it? I’ve been risking being discovered doing it.”

“I’ve been gettin' those for years Rachel... this whole time...?”

“The first year you sent me the flowers.” You whisper swallowing noisily and his face softens. You had gotten them. You had remembered. The realization hits him hard and his heart starts to thump harder. “I started after that.”

“So you have gotten them.” He whispers, his grip on your hands tightening. 

“Yes. Every year.” you look at each other and you feel the raised pulses in your gripping hands. 

“You knew it was me?”

“How could I not?” The flash of a thought of a smile crosses your eyes.

“You remembered?” his voice makes his disbelief apparent. 

“How could I forget Alfie?” Your voice was stronger and more certain. He knew you were speaking from inside now, the fear falling away to honesty. 

“You haven’t said a word in years, I thought you’d forgotten me entirely to be honest.” he admits.

You pout and shake your head. “You don’t forget someone when you love them the way I did you.” You say almost offended 

“And you’ve been givin' me information this whole time? Taking it from the police and tellin' me?” His voice tells you he doesn’t even know how to believe the statement. The woman he loved, that he thought had long forgotten him had been looking out for him for years.

“Yes. I couldn’t stand having to hear them talk about taking you down. Anytime I got wind of something I tried to tell you.”

“You did that...for me?” He asks with eyes that show more vulnerability.

“Yes.” 

“Riskin' being found out by giving me info and coming here tonight to warn me?”

“Yes.” You say stronger.

“But why love?” His face showing his confusion. Why risk everything for a man you willingly left? “You could’ve really gotten yourself in trouble.” 

“I know that.” You say more defiantly. “I have my reasons.”

“And you’ll share classified information with me but you won’t share the reasons why you do it?” his voice more demanding. 

You feel the words build up in your throat and they burn. They want to be released. “What do you want me to say, Alfie?” You say with a harsher tone, tears appearing in your eyes.

“The truth would be nice, don’t you think?” He states obviously. Pulling your hands back towards him as you try to pull them away. “No Rachel.” He shakes his head and “I let you get away without the fight I should have. I’m not letting you leave here without answers this time.” 

“Alfie please,” you rasp out. The tears burning in your eyes. You knew he deserved the truth. He had kept his distance and let you live your life, he could’ve tried to ruin your marriage, even kill your husband but he hadn’t. He loved you and he let you go. With which is something you had never been able to do. “I cant.” you whimper.

“But you can feed me information and worry about me? Put yourself in danger by coming here and doing so?”

“I can’t let anything happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” your voice cracks and the tears start to fall.

“And why? Why would you leave me and marry another man and birth him a child and still do this?”

“You want to fucking know?” You finally break. A deep breath and a bold stare into his searching eyes make a fire light inside you both. There was his little Rachel. This was the raw and emotional woman he’d been in love with since even before the war. “You want me to admit that I failed? That I made the worst decision of my life leaving you?” The words escape you violently and he holds your hands tightly, his jaw clenched as the things he’s long wondered poured out of you in a display of honesty and vulnerability few ever see. “That the only thing that brings me any inkling of joy is my baby and she exhausts me to the point of forced unconsciousness because I’m left alone all the time? That my marriage is purely performative? I’m stuck without love or touch or even common decency and have been for years? Is THAT what you want to know so badly?” you choke out.

“Of course I don’t want you to have that sort of life love,” he says with a feverish retort “I want to know why you still care if I live or die?” He begs with his eyes. 

“Because I... I fucking love you, Alfie. At no point have I stopped! And I hate myself for it and what I’ve done! What should’ve been the best years of my youth are now the darkest and cold I’ve ever known. I loved you but I was frightened! I didn’t want to die but now I see that life without love isn’t worth living for me and it’s all I can do to make amends. All that’s within my power to do is try to make sure you don’t die by the hand of my husband because if that came to pass I would kill myself, do you understand?!” Your breathing is ragged and fast tears fall down your face and you feel so alive. Things you’d never thought would ever admit were now shouted in the face of the man you had known, up until a few minutes ago, would never hear them. You laid your soul bare for him and you did owe him that much for making such a mess of things. 

His eyes look at you like they had all those years ago. The same love rested within them that you’d seen even after you broke his heart. And though the face around them was older and more worn now, the eyes remained the same.

“My love...” he whispers, a hand traveling to the side of your face to make you meet his loving gaze but you shut them tightly and whimper. “Look at me Rachel, please.” He speaks with such softness and tenderness you don’t deserve.

“It hurts too much Alfie. Everything hurts so much.” You begin to sob. 

“Shhhh, there, there my lovely girl .” He coos, bringing your head to his shoulder, the feel of warmth against you is too much for your weak constitutions. He strokes your hair and you sob, the affection too much to bear. You give in. He knew the truth now, what else was there to hide? You let yourself lean into him, a and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry” You whine. 

“No, no, pet I am.” He rubs your back now, feeling his mouth ear your ear. “I should’ve seen you were just scared. I should’ve fought to keep you.”

“I’ve never loved him, Alfie.” You choke out and it felt so good to say. 

His chest burns with your confessions. It’s everything he wanted to hear and nothing he wanted at the same time. He thought you were happy. He never wanted you unhappy, and if he’d known...it didn’t matter now though. You had both made your decisions and now you're left with what to do next now that the truth was out. 

“I thought maybe I could forget you if I fell into my place. Did my wifely duties and acted proper. But I never did. I should’ve left when I couldn’t get pregnant. It should’ve been an obvious sign.”

“Shhh shhhh” he says wrapping his arms around your body. 

“I could've died having her.” You say as your body stills and you feel him tense beneath you. You lean back to see his face and it was just as scared as yours. “ I Laid there alone, bleeding and terrified and all I thought about was how I wished you were there. That I could see you one last time.” 

“Rachel..” his face, voice are pained, hand moving to touch your cheek and brush your hair back, looking over the gut-wrenching heartache across your face. 

The confessions keep coming and you can’t stop them now. Not with him within a breaths distance of you. “God how I wished she was yours.” You look to his lips, just as soft as they had been as your fingertips trace over them. “I had hoped we had an affair I’d forgotten.” You huff out a noise that was almost a laugh.”That somehow she had been brought into the world with love. That she could be put into her father’s arms first instead of a stranger. You would’ve been there when she was born. You wouldn’t have left me alone. She could’ve been held by someone who would look at her like I do, like she’s the reason for living.” You see the tears in his eyes and you adore their existence, it meant perhaps there was hope, somewhere, somehow for love to exist. “I’m so sorry Alfie.” your voice begs.

“What I wouldn’t give to have given you that.” He whispers, looking over your pained and striking face. 

“My God Alfie what have we done?”

“It doesn’t matter what we’ve done. What do we do now?” he holds your face firmly.

You stare at each other in silence. Neither having the answer. How would you begin to remedy this? Was there a remedy at all? You look over the face that sent love and lust through you so easily as a younger woman and it was still having the same effect on you. “Alfie?”

“Yes, love?” He whispers, brushing his nose against yours affectionately. 

“Do you still love me?” You ask weakly. 

“More than anything,” he says with a low brow. 

“Then do what I know you truly want to right now. I see it in your eyes the same as I ever did.”

“Rachel...” He whispers hesitantly. 

You lean into his lips and close your eyes. “It has been so long Alfie.” You beg. “So long since I’ve felt wanted and loved as I do right now in your arms. Show me that you love me. Make love to me Alfie. I feel I will live to have more regret than I do already if we do not.” There’s was no going back now. Even if you stayed apart and lived double lives, lied about how you felt to everyone else but each other, things were different now. They couldn’t truly go back to the way they were, not in your hearts. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Only about you my love.” 

And with that, he gives in to you, as if he ever stood a chance. At first, the kiss was chaste. Hard exhales escape you both with pained expressions that gave away the hurt that resides inside you both. A whine escapes you unintentionally as you press against him. Your mouths show quickly the hunger that lives within you both. As his hand moved down your back, clutching at you before taking the back of your head to hold you fast to him, you hear him moan. A sound you never thought you’d hear again. You give it back in full, hands moving to his already messy hair and your lips work fiercely against each other. They part for tongues and moans, lapping against each other with no thought of shame for the needful sounds coming from you both. 

He pulls back to your surprise, panting and holding your face. “No way I’m making love to you on this couch. We’re going to bed where I can do it proper like you deserve.” he says forcefully and you follow him without question, hand in hand up the stairs. The room is dark and cold and neither of you care.

You reach to unbutton his shirt as you kiss him, he undoes your dress to your waist where the buttons ceased. You take turns, steps toward the bed as you removed your clothes limb by limb. 

You are down to your slip and nothing else, him with undone trousers hanging loosely on his hips. “Get under the covers love, I’ll not have you getting cold." He says, peeling the last layer off.

Watching your body now changed, hip bones more prominent, your bum more round and your arms lean and strong from the baby. He matches you in nakedness, and then in the bed.

Losing no time he pulls you against his chest, hands down your back to grab your bum. You hold yourself against him as closely as possible. You hadn’t felt skin against yours in so long, you hadn’t felt alive since the last time you’d been with him. It all comes flooding back, pieces of memories from your time together. At night in the garden in the rain, in the low light of dawn in a tiny bed barely big enough for you both, in his office on the settee, all different and all bringing you over the edge with sweet words and skilled hips. You’d missed him even more than you thought you had as you let yourself drown willingly in the memories. 

You were softer than he recalled. Smaller but softer. He kisses you thoroughly, hand moving from sensual space to space, taking in every new scar and mark that he hadn’t been around for. You clutch tightly to his back and neck, almost fearing he might come to his senses and stop. 

He moves you beneath him a swift motion, nothing had changed when it came to the two of you reading each other bodies, anticipating what the other wanted. Only after he has met his fill of your mouth on his do the kisses start to wander to your neck. You melt into the bed, hands holding around his back as you exhale noisily and whimper at the softness of his lips as they work against your neck and chest. 

“My god, how have I lived without this?” You whine out, hands moving to his hair first before moving to his face and pulling him back to you. “How have I lived without you?” You whisper before meeting him in a feverish kiss, his hands traveling to your hip and thighs, pulling and squeezing, wrapping your legs around him. 

“I have not lived without you, my angel. Let me feel you love, wrap yourself around me, I need to feel you.” he groans between sloppy kisses.

You obey without question. His mouth back to your neck as you hold your hand in his hair, remember the softness and finding it longer now. “Alfie I need you.” You moan without shame. “Please, love.” You whisper into his ear and he takes hold of your hip.

“Do we need protection?” He asks, his head lifting up, having totally forgotten about such a thing up to this point.

“No, darling, it took me years to get pregnant, we’re fine.” You say with a more focused voice as you faded in and out of your responsible selves for a moment. He grunts in response, settling his knees into the bed and reaching between your legs to prepare you as you seemed rather starved for it. There was no judgment in this observation as he was the same, knowing he was hard and leaking already at the thought of coming back home to your body. Your body enthused the same as he found your thighs slick with proof of your honesty behind your words of needing him. 

“Rachel, you have never been so wet for me.” He whispers against your lips, finger frictionless between your lips.

“It’s been so long, Alfie, so long. Years.” you whine and he pushes his fingers into you to find you taut and hot. 

He watches your face barely visible in the moonlight dancing through the curtains. a flutter of lashes before your eyes roll back. Your mouth trembling open and a lustful moan rising out of it just for him. Your sounds were deeper now, slower and building, rawer than he recalls. He moves his fingers in you, finding their place naturally as ever as he finds you still grasp his shoulders when her circles your clit, some things never change. 

“Please Alfie.” A breathy and soft moan in his ear. “I need your cock. I’m more than ready, darling.” You cry and he grasps himself, gliding between your thick soft lips to cover himself in your wetness. “My god...” you whisper, feeling the heat and hardness against you. You had given up on feeling it ever again. You recall the first time you had sex with Alfie. How surprised you were by everything about him. An almost femininely beautiful face, shaven back then. A harsh voice and rough hands from work, same as now, and the thick stretch of him that made you gasp for air just as it was tonight. 

“Alright love?” He asks with a tender kiss to your temple as your mouth lies open and mewls as he pushes into you. 

“More.” You request, hand snaking to the back of his neck, pressing his lips against yours and keeping a tight grip on him as he buried himself inside you. The lack of hesitancy you had for him was intoxicating. He hadn't felt so full since you’d left, filling you and filling himself simultaneously. 

Your grip on each other is almost bruising, his hands traveling the width of your ribs as his lips press soft kisses to your breasts with every slow pump inside you. He handles with you care, like you are as physically fragile as you are emotionally while in his arms. He licks across your nipples, bringing kisses into the heavy weight of them and groaning as his face rests between them as you press them together for him. 

“Your body is heavenly my love.” He rasps in your ear, returning from your chest to press his soft lips to your neck again. 

“You feel so good, Alfie. Better than I can ever remember.” You whine out before a moan takes away the eye contact you were holding, your head falling back to the pillow. This was what making love was, you think to yourself. He moves slowly but purposely inside you, the slight weight and hang in his stomach you both have from getting older and having a child press against the other, seeing your bodies together completely, finishing it with the meeting of your mouths as he his body moves against yours, giving you the extra touch your body needed. Alfie's touch lit your skin on fire and told yours what it needed before it knew itself. The roaming of his hands, grasping at you with desperation, the other by your head in your hair to keep your face in sight, his insistence to watch your face told you he wanted you, and with his moans, his body told you it needed yours.

His thumb traces over your panting mouth, watching every expression your face made and committing it to memory. “I have missed you more than words can express.” He says softly, your eyes rolling back to meet his. 

“More than anything.” You whisper back. You take a quick inhale, rising to touch his face again, to feel the beard under your fingers, the pulse on your palm. “I love you.” You say with a pained express born from the same emotion and pleasure

“And I you. Always.” His face shares your same expression of downturned brows, your eyes continued to tell of the emptiness you felt without the other. 

He didn’t know what would become of the two of you, but he knew he wouldn’t make the mistake of this miracle happening between the two of you tonight being taken for granted. This could be the last time he gets you like this, he wasn’t letting a single nuanced flinch of your face go unnoticed. 

He hears the sequence of breathing he recalls as he hums with contentment at the sound. He knows what that sound meant. Your thighs pull tight against him, and he holds your hip to keep you in place. He pushes into you harder, a dull slap of skin to skin your toes start to curl. 

“Alfie.” You moan and gasp, the same calling of his name he heard in his dreams. 

“That’s it my love,” he whispers into your ear. “Let me hear you, please.” He asks with eyes screwed shut for a moment, the pain in his chest from the fear of thinking he’d never hear you again settles. 

 

“Oh Alfie.” you mewl, your skin beginning to tingle, letting your thoughts come through as he wished.

“Yes, love, yes.” He says against your cheek, pressing his face to yours.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, your breathing fast and quick as he hit into you.”Oh my god yes.” he feels your thighs tense and start to shake.

“Come for me Rachel, my love, my god let me feel you again.” As he speaks it overtakes you. Your eyes are now permanently housed, rolled back and fluttering as your back arches and your whole body convulses against his. It comes wave after delicious wave, you’re sure you moan and cry out but you can’t focus on anything but how impossibly good it feels. This was life with Alfie, not only love and care but a deeper satisfaction being met by both body and mind. 

Your body remembers before you do of the feel of his hand suddenly tight and still against you. His forehead to yours as it has done hundreds of times before, you hear the shouted wordless cries as his back hunches and you know by the deep home he’s made in you that he’s found his end as well. 

You come down together with much noise. Moans continuing as you pant and groan as your muscles shift, the small convulsions of aftershocks that make you both shake. He stays inside you for a while, and neither of you says anything. 

You both know you have to go in the sobering air after an orgasm. You kiss softly, hands to faces, eyes spilling out apologies for so many things. 

You tell him you’ll figure something out. He kisses you after he helps shield you from the cold in your coat, buttoning it for you. You tell him you meant everything you said. To take care of the warning for tomorrow and you would try to take care of things on your end. He nods and kisses you one last night, truly and honestly believing it would be the last time. 

You walk home quickly, only a few hours have passed and the sun is nowhere near up. You could get lucky and return unnoticed.

You’re still thinking about what to do as you’re sipping tea in your kitchen the next day, surprised it seemed you’d gotten away with it. Harold had still been asleep and you paid the maid extra just for not telling him you’d left. What was another secret added to the life-changing night you’d had, after all?

The day passes and Harold comes home defeated and you silently rejoice in your love having bested him yet again. But your celebrating wouldn’t last too long. 

Almost two months pass and you stand in your bathroom, wiping the vomit from your face and dress. As you stare at your reflection. You knew this meant a few different things. One, you were most certainly pregnant as Elizabeth had made her announcement of conception in the same way. Two, that it was not your husbands, but Alfies. And three, that the problem with conceiving had never been you as you’d been berated into thinking, it’d been Harold’s. 

A twisted sense of revenge is filled within you. There had been nothing wrong with you. And you had proof. You had the child of the man you truly loved growing inside you, just as you’d pretended with Elizabeth from time to time. You only had a certain window to act now, and perhaps it was for the better. Now you couldn’t idle. You just had to come up with a plan. 

But both lucky and unlucky for both you and Alfie, fate intervened. 

You answer the door not even a week after realizing you were pregnant. A young boy, bent over and gasping for breath and trying to speak stands before you. 

“Take a breath dear, breathe.” You say, with the motherly tone you had fallen into speaking with as you only really talked to Elizabeth.

“Mr. Solomons sent me miss.” He gets out and your eyes go wide. 

“What is it? What’s happened?” Fear sits fat in your throat at the rushed words. 

“He has me run here when the coppers showed up at his house. They were takin' him away when I was running to you.”

“He was arrested? Why for?” 

“I heard them saying he was a suspect in a murder case.”

“Oh fucking hell.” you mumble. 

“Yeah.” the boy says nodding, standing back up straight now. 

“He said to come find you to let you know.”

“And you don’t know anything else?”

“Fraid not.” He says with an apologetic glance. His voice breaks your rushing minds thoughts. “Are you gonna help him miss? If he gets put in jail I don’t know what’ll happen to my family. We live off what he pays me to be his eyes and ears right now

“I’m going to do everything I can to get him out of there.” You say, moving to grab a few pounds from your purse and giving them to him. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you, Miss.” He says with a nod as he hops off the stairs and scurries away. 

You phone the maid and tell her to come over, you dress and feed the baby and wait by the door.

Within a few hours, you’re in the police station acting calm and asking questions. Lying and saying you heard your husband caught someone big and you were here to congratulate him. People started talking without any inquisition. With an open file you’re told on the night of the murder he was seen. You ask which night, as you frequently took late night strolls and wanted to know when might be safer to do so. The night in question is the night you were at his home with him. This made you his alibi. This meant your confession was the only thing keeping Alfie Solomons from getting convicted of murder. Multiple witnesses were given, and that seemed awfully suspicious for a crime at night in an abandoned part of town. The whole thing read set up. Perhaps the black star wasn’t for Alfie in the ledger, but for the night when murder would be committed to frame him for. You weren’t sure if it was the influx of pregnancy hormones or the risk of losing him to a false claim but you dismiss yourself politely and go up the stairs to find your soon to be ex-husband.

You find Harold floating and looking very surprised as you walk around the corner. 

“Rachel? What on earth are you doing here? Is their an emergency? You should have just called.” He begins. 

“I heard you brought in Solomons finally.” You say flatly and he perks up.

“Oh yes come to congratulate the newest town hero have we?”

“May I speak with you for a moment? I’d like to hear what happened from you.”

“Oh, she lives for a bit of gossip.” He teases you and laughs with the other men. 

You take him to a hallway to talk. And it would seem happenstance was all about you today as you chose the door to the room Alfie was in to talk in front of. He hears Harold blabbing on again, thinking he’s about to come in to gloat again.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you Harold.” You say flatly. 

Alfie recognizes your voice immediately and he perks up. 

“What’s that?” Harold asks

“He didn’t do it.” You respond in the same tone. 

“What shite are you on about woman? Of course, he did it.”

“No, he didn’t. What are the chances of there being three eyewitnesses in an abandoned part of town in the middle of the night? The whole thing is a setup.”

“What do you know Rachel? Leave the police work to the men alright sweetie?” he spits out defensively, giving himself away.

“He has an alibi.” You say with more anger in your voice. 

Alfie's eyes go wide as he stares at the door. 

“What another child, another slag they’ve paid off to lie on his behalf?”

“No. A very reliable source.”

“And where are they? Why are you here and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? You should be at home minding your own bloody business and taking care of the baby.” he says with cold accusation.

Alfie was fuming at how he was speaking to you. Any bit of guilt he thought he might’ve had for sleeping with another man’s wife was gone. 

“They’re here. And I’m not going to let you send an innocent man to jail.”

“INNOCENT?” He laughs in your face loudly. “Sweetie you don’t know Solomons from a hole in the ground and you want to speak on a known criminals innocence? Christ Rachel, are you affected in the head?” 

“I do know Alfie.”

“On a first name basis are we?” He rolls his eyes and lets out a condescending groan. “What’d he do? Pay for your food at the market one day? Help you jump over a puddle and now you’re gonna claim he’s a good man? He kills people Rachel. He’s an evil and manipulative man who uses people to get what he wants.” 

“And so are you.” You spit out

Alfie's brow shoots up and a smile appears on his face.

“Fucking WHAT did you say to me?” He hisses and Alfie hears you make a pained sound and growls.

“You kill people. You’ve done nothing but use me and you're incapable of love. I call that evil.” you angrily whisper. 

“You’re as mad as a fucking hatter Rachel, my god. We’re going to call the doctor and see if we can get something to calm you down.”

“No. WE aren’t doing anything. YOU are going to release him because he wasn’t at the docks that night.”

“And what proof do you have?”

“My word.?

“And how would you know?”

“Because I was with him.” You say with such malice in your voice Alfie can feel it. His heart races for fear of what Harold might do and also from being proud and surprised. 

“Don’t be daft you were in bed with me all night.”

“Was I? You never do so much as touch me so how would you even know?”

“Get the fuck in here.” he says roughly pulling you in the room Alfie was in. “Do you know this woman?” He asks him, holding you by the arm. 

“I do.” He says calmly. 

“And how do you know her?”

“Intimately.” He says with such gall it sends a fearful thrill up your spine. “We used to be sweethearts.” He adds. 

“You used to fucking what?” He hisses, moving to hold your face tight by the chin.”Is this fucking true? And you better not lie to me because I’ll know!”

“I’m finished lying to you, Harold. Alfie and I were together for a very long time before I, unfortunately, decided to marry you.” you sass back.

“Watch your bloody mouth.” He leans in close.

“Or fuckin' what eh? You lay a hand on her and you’ll have more than framing me for murder to worry about.” Alfie says territorially from across the table, his arms shifting in the cuffs.

“You were with him the night the murder happened? Where were you?”

“At his house.”

“Why?” He says angrily and louder. 

“To warn him about you coming after him.”

“You did what now?”

“I told him I thought you planned on coming for him soon.”

“And why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.” You say sternly. You take a deep breath and yank his hand off your face. 

“The time frame on the murder is a few hours, you can’t cover all of that.”

Alfie lets out a deep chuckle from across the table. “You wanna bet?” He smirks.

Harold moves fast and strikes him across the face, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him.

“Stop it you brute! He didn’t do anything! I did” You hit Harold on the back. 

“So’kay love, just love taps, this one has a temper innit he?” he spits out blood into the floor.

“Shut up!” He says slamming him into the chair and quickly turning to you.

“Harold I demand a divorce.” you say with a boldness Alfie recalls from your youth. 

“You fuckin' what? YOU want to divorce me? After all I’ve done for you?”

“What the fuck have you done for me?!” your voice rises.

“A roof over your head, food on the table and a child for starters!”

“The baby was your idea if you recall! I never asked for it! And not like you were much help in making her with how long it took you to get me pregnant! You’re hardly a man at all!” You shout back and shove him and he slaps you across the face.

Alfie is on his feet in an instant but Harold pulls his gun on him.

“If you take one more step I will fucking shoot you and blame her.” He says glaring at you but speaking to Alfie as he stands still but doesn’t sit. “You’ve never been anything but a little bloody beggar girl have you? Cockney trash. Your mum was a slag your father was a criminal And you’re just the same aren’t you?”

“Better than being like you.” you spit out, rubbing your face.

“You were at his house for hours that night?”

“Yes.”

He takes a deep breath before he speaks “And what were you doing?”

“You already know the answer don’t you?” You say quietly. “Just cockney trash coming together how it should be eh?” You say with your accent coming through. 

“You fucking didn’t.”

“I did before I met you and I did that night and I’ll do it again. I want a divorce Harold. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. I tried. And I couldn’t. Do you know how bad that makes You? That not even I, with my criminal family and my storied past couldn’t manage to see the good in you?”

“And I suppose you think you love him instead?”

“I know I do.” You say getting in his face and Alfie has never been more proud. Or shocked for that matter. You kept your word. You figured something out. "So now you're left with a choice, Harold. You let him go, and no one finds out your wife was fucking a criminal while you slept, or you try to charge him and I'll scream the truth about how this is all a setup and how you're just a crooked as he is." you hiss. 

He moves to Alfie and unlocks the cuffs “Get the fuck out of here.” he sighs. No one moves for a weighted moment. “ARE YOU FUCKING DEAF?!” He screams and Alfie takes you by the hand and leaves without looking back.  
\------  
A man was already waiting outside for him, and he pulls you into the car with him, which under normal circumstances would've been fine. But as his man pulls away fast and the motion triggers your nausea and your head starts to spin. 

"Oh god I think I'm going to be sick." you groan, trying to steady yourself in the car and grabbing Alfie's knee.

"And rightfully so, love, you should'nt've had to even witness that let alone be handled in such a way." his hand rubs across your back to comfort you. You continue to breathe your nose and out your mouth, eyes shut and hands still tight against him. "Oh you mean actually sick?" he says with realization. "Oh hell, breathe love you're fine." he leans forward, pushing your hair out of your face. "I shouldn't have jostled you so, my apologies." he says softly, his hand still rubbing against your back. 

In these few moments, you realize what he was doing was more than Harold had done to ease you during the entirety of your marriage. "Elizabeth. We need to go get the baby." you say as you flutter open your eyes.

"Drive on to her house, eh?" is all he has to say to the driver, and it hits you not only he, but this man who worked for him knew where you live. It said so much about how he'd spent your time apart. 

You pull up and give no explanation, having him stay in the car as to not arouse suspicion. You gather a suitcase of your things, heirlooms and clothing, following with Elizabeth's, only bringing the things that couldn't be replaced, as you knew Alfie would have someone purchase the necessities for you. It all happens in a rush and being the well-tempered child, despite whos she was, Elizabeth doesn't pay much mind to the ruckus around her. You have your trunk put into the back of the car, Alfie taking the case of the baby's and placing it in the floor as he helps you into the car, sliding in quickly behind you. And like that, in a span of mere minutes, you'd left your husband, taken your baby and had everything important to you in your life within a close radius. 

"'Ello little one." Alfie says, reaching out a finger to the wide eyed bundle in your lap.

She takes him in for a moment, a tilt of her head and prompt bubbling of spit from her lips that you chuckle and wipe away. She coos and lifts a hand out to grab his beard and give it a tug. 

"Ah. Yes. Not used to one of those eh?" he asks, nose twitching as she tugs rapidly. You let out a chuckle, and how long had it been since you'd let yourself make that noise? As she brings her hands to his face, patting away at his cheeks as she explores the friendly stranger, you lean forward and kiss his temple. "What's the for love?" he asks, one eye shut so the baby doesn't blind him as he turns to you.

"For you," you say with a soft smile. "Is this alright Alfie? Me and the baby I mean? I'm coming to you with an awful lot of attachments." you say apologetically.

"And we'll handle them all." he says obviously. "I love you. Fully. You don't love parts of a person, darling. And it's not as if being with me is some walk in the park." he grins.

"I'll take all of you as well. Happily." you lean in to share a brief kiss and Elizabeth lets out a squeal and you both laugh before you pull away. 

"She seems to approve." he says, wiggling his fingers as he explores his rings with her tiny hands. 

"She's never seen me kiss a man before," you explain. "She seems to approve as much as I." another subtle upturning of your lips as you watch your baby chew away at his fingertips. 

"Oh, my darling..." he says with a heavy sigh, making you turn to face him at the sadness of the tone. "What sort of loveless prison were you in my love?" he holds the side of your face and kisses you again, but this time the baby is distracted by the shiny rings. "I would have taken you from it if I had known." another chaste kiss. "Never again, Rachel." he whispers. "You'll be kissed every day and I'll make it a point she knows her mum is loved. Just the same as her."

"You really don't mind that she isn't yours?" you force out.

"She is yours. And that's all that matters to me. You." he says with a firm nod.  
\------  
The night, Alfie comes back home, having things to settle and not wanting you to have to lift a finger. His maid helps you unpack, setting up space for you in his room and overtaking a guest room across the hall for the baby. His men bring in a bassinette and pram for you, the food you'd listed that she liked to eat and even a few dolls for good measure. You're breastfeeding a rather cheery baby, being very vocal as she smacks away at you while you softly tell her about the day you'd had. 

"And that's why we're going to be living with Alfie now. Your mum is very happy about this and you should be too. I'm sure a happy mum will be much more pleasant to deal with compared to have I've acted as of late little one, and I am sorry for that." you sigh, brushing back the curls on her head. 

"Certainly even on your worst days you were lovely." he announces his arrival from the doorway, now in hanging braces and only his loose shirt, untucked and billowing out from his trousers. "I got back as soon as I could love." he says quietly to not disturb the baby. He leans in as you tilt your head up to speak, and gives you a kiss. Something you weren't certain you'd ever get used to. "Did everyone take care of you this evening?" he asks, bending at the waist at your side, a warm and comforting hand on your back. 

"They were all wonderful. Thank you, Alfie. Really. I can't say it enough to you."

"You don't have to say it at all." he smiles, a light tap to your chin after he cups the side of your face. You sit in silence as you watch Elizabeth suckle away, gurgling and happy, you wondered if she could feel the difference in the air, the calm and the care. "She's a rather good babe innit she? She's not been fussy a'tall." he muses. 

"She is a good baby. Somehow quiet despite the environment she's been in up to this point. But she seems rather giggly today." you smile.

"Good," he states with a nod. "And what of you dear?" he asks, the back of his hand brushing against your forehead. "Ida said you were sick today. Or has the excitement of it all gotten to you?"

"It did but..." you shake your head, a lump rising in your throat. "I have been upset by a few things. Mostly from Harold." you frown.

"Wasn't it you that called him barely a man? You mustn't worry about a thing like him any longer." he shakes his head.

"Well I called him that for a reason..." you begin softly, Alfie can see the change in your face.

"Do go on, love." he says, pulling a stationary chair up to your rocking one, taking your hand to listen. Your stomach flutters, and even though it was too soon for such a thing, it was as if the second little one knew it was home. 

"He'd said terrible things of me, accused me of nasty things while we were trying to conceive. And I was always told I was the problem. That it was my fault." You feel his grip tighten on your hand, likely from anger. "But I've come to find that I was never the problem." you say with a shaky breath, turning to look at him, your eyes bright in the dim light of the room as he tilts his head at you in question. 

“And how’s that, darling?" he asks, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Because you and I slept together only once and I got pregnant.” you rasp out. 

His eyes go wide and he looks at you and your puppy eyes, large with worry. “You...what now?” he rapidly blinks.

“I’m pregnant.” You say clearly. 

He sits up straight. “Are you Bloody serious?” he whispers, eyes shifting from your stomach to your face. His other hand moves to wrap around your one, leaning in closer to you as if a further inspection of your honest face might give him more answers. 

“Entirely.” you swallow noisily.

“And you're sure its-“ his chin lowers.

“Yours. Yes. Couldn’t be anyone else’s." you shake your head slowly.

He lets out a heavy sigh and furrows his brow. He releases your hand with one of his, moving it place it on your stomach that wasn't covered by the baby in your lap. “We decided to make up for lost time dinnit we?” He says, his eyes moving back up to yours.

“Apparently so." you watch his face, looking for anything negative, but you don't find it. "Although I can't bring myself to mind it.” you whisper, leaning in closer to him. 

“Neither can I, love.” He shakes his head. "More than a bit of a shock though innit?" he huffs out an amused sound before taking a moment to look at your face. He leans in and kisses you, you feel the heat of his hand through your dress to your stomach, fingers moving ever so slightly as if he might feel something. “I do love you." he whispers, forehead against yours.

"And I you." you smile back, eyes shut and letting yourself be emersed in the feeling of affection. 

"And I'll love this little one here." he pats your stomach. "And I'll love this little one here." he nods to the baby in your arms, he promises. "So may I ask you, in the spirit of making us a family, of making you and them mine... would you have any interest in pushing forward this rather unconventional romance?” he asks, a smirk falling across his face.

"Nothing about us has ever been traditional." you grin. "So why start now?" you shrug.

“It would seem proper, with there being a new little one coming into the world because 'a me 'n all...would you like to get married? As soon as your divorce is final?” 

“You...really?" you ask, and the surprise in your face almost breaks his heart, why wouldn't he want to keep you forever?

“Yes. How could I not be? I can’t lose you again.” He says more serious.

"I'm not leaving you again." you shake your head and your lashes flutter with emotion, you reach out to cup his cheek. "I spent all my time worrying about you when I was somewhere else. Despite leaving you because I didn't want to worry." you huff out a soft laugh. "I'd rather worry and be with you than be anywhere else, Alfie. I'm sorry I had to learn that lesson the hard way." you whisper, an apologetic smile tugs at your lips. 

"The past doesn't matter anymore, love." he shakes his head, holding your soft palm to his rough cheek. "All that matters now is the future," he states with more certainty than you feel. "And I'd love that future to be one where we're together. We'll make yours and mine one, Rachel. You can finally be my little missus like I used to tease you about bein' when we was younger, yeah? My little Rachel Solomons. My wife. Mother of my children."

"Love of your life." you whisper back the sweet words he used to promise you years ago. After you'd make love in your tiny flat, on your uncomfortable bed, he'd twist your ring finger and tell you how one day he'd be able to buy you a ring, he'd tell you everything you wanted to hear from a man and you'd taken it for granted then. But you didn't plan on ever doing that again. 

"Always. I meant it when we's young and I mean it more now knowing what the world is like." his eyes don't hold that whimsy they had the last time he'd said these things to you, but that made it more reassuring to you, more honest. "I love you. Let me be with you so I can take care of you, darling. You deserve that and more. Let me be the one to give that to you." he asks, kissing the palm of your hand as your fingers gently stroked his face. 

"I love you, Alfie. Of course, I'll marry you." you say with a smile. 

"I will go and get the ring come morning then." he says before leaning in to kiss you again. 

Elizabeth interrupts you with a tiny snore from your breast to let you know she's fallen asleep as you laugh against Alfie's lips while he kisses you. You chuckle and pull away. "Let me put her to bed." you whisper and kiss his cheek, placing her in the new crib with her favorite blanket and toy you'd brought with you. 

"She looks just like you, love." Alfie says, standing behind you, arms slowly wrapping around your waist and head resting on your shoulder. "And if we're lucky this one will too." he chuckles, kissing the side of your head, hands splayed across your stomach. "Are you ready for bed love? You must be exhausted after the day you've had on top of caring for her and cookin' up my little one, yeah? I've been told by my mother the Solomons babies will exhaust you long before they're born, I'm afraid."

"Lucky I've been taking care of one for a good chunk of my life then, hmmm?" you laugh quietly and turn in his arms. He's warmed to his bones at the sound of it and the sight of you without tension on your face, as he'd only seen you with a veil of worry for so many years.

"Oh there she is." a warm smile appears on his face. "There's the funny little girl I fell in love with. Givin' me hell from the start." he laughs as he holds you close and kisses you. 

"And you want me to give you hell forever. What does that say about you?" you hum contently.

"That I'm hopelessly in love with you." he answers. "Come now love. Let's get us to bed. We've got a new life to start together come morning."

"And what if all this love talk has made me not want to sleep?" you say with a cheeky smile.

"Then I will give you whatever you want of me, my love. Tonight and the rest of the nights hereafter."


End file.
